Freedom. It's not what you think.
At least it wasn't for Lily.
We were at my parent's farm over Memorial Day weekend. My son was plowing while my husband stood close to oversee. My husband noticed a small, light brown creature curled up in the edge of the field. It wasn't frightened enough to run away from the roar of the diesel engine, but not brave enough to come any closer either. He told us about it at supper that night, sensing it was wounded but not sure exactly what it was. A deer maybe? He didn't know.
The next morning, my son woke up early, ready to get back to his work in the field. We headed down the mountain just after day break. I sat on the tailgate of the ATV and watched him.
From the corner of my eye, I saw something unusual in the tall fescue near the pond. As I gained focused, I met hazel eyes staring back at me through blades of grass. It was a petite, gold dog, hunkered low, shivering with fear and starvation.
We were miles from any house she might belong to. And judging by her response to me, it could not have been a good home by any definition. She whined and shrunk back. When I stopped, she tucked her tail between her legs and trotted off. She looked nervously over her shoulder to see if I was coming too. When she realized I wasn't, she stopped but kept ample distance between us.
We brought her some food and stayed back so she could come get it. We wondered what to do next. She was in rough shape and wouldn't survive the wilderness on her own much longer.
She was certainly free from whatever horrible situation that previously held her, but this freedom she'd found was not at all what she needed. Better than what she faced before? Yes- maybe. But best? Not by a stretch.
And isn't that what we do too?
We run from that which haunts us. But our running becomes the event that makes us suffer- our denying, our trying, or our vying for release. We want to unhitch from that which holds us captive, but we don't know it's best to rehitch to something else.
We think freedom is not being attached to anything. But that's a lie.
Freedom is not the absence of something we don't want, but the presence of Someone who will love and heal and care for us when we cannot love and heal and care for ourselves.
How do I know that freedom is the presence of something good rather than the absence of something bad?
That precious dog was running away from circumstances none of us want to think about. But running almost cost her her life.
It was only when she stopped running and was reluctant but willing to be tethered to something new and good, that she found real freedom... and a forever home.
Her name is Lily.
She has been adopted into the best dog family I've ever known- with my sister and brother-in-law as the parents. She is getting the love and healing and care she so desperately needs and has always deserved.
This is where you and I will find freedom as well.
Not just by unhitching from- the "what could have beens," the "what should be's," the fear, the anxiety, the guilt, the shame, the control-tendencies, the unforgiveness, the bad habits, or whatever holds us captive- but by fastening ourselves to the One who longs to give us the love and healing and care we have always deserved. The One who adopts us into His family, no matter how misfit or unloveable we may feel.
If you want to experience this kind of freedom, I've prepared a 10-minute guided meditation you can use today. You can get it here.
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This article was originally published on the Purpose Dweller Project.